Page 51 of Taking the Pitch
Don’t move. I’m on my way.
Moving to my dresser, I whip my towel off and toss it onto the bed, quickly pulling on my briefs, sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt. When I get to the living room, I grab a sweater and pull it on, then grab my favorite baseball cap and tug it on over my wet hair, flipping it backwards. My phone pings in my pocket while I’m tugging on my shoes.
Shortcake
OK, we’re by the front desk.
I hit the lobby button on the elevator and tap out a reply.
Me
Good girl.
Shortcake
Bite me Davis.
I chuckle, watching the elevator tick down the floors.
Me
That can be arranged.
I exit the elevator and turn the corner towards the desk. I spot Amelia before she sees me. She’s looking at her phone and biting the corner of her lip, a slight pink tinge to her cheeks.
“You okay, Shortcake? You’re looking a little flushed,” I tease when I reach the desk. She startles and looks at her phone again before putting it in her pocket and looking back at me. Her eyes widen slightly when she sees me.
“Yep, all good. Just warm in this jacket. Let’s go, Bruno’s tired of waiting on you,” she shoots back, dropping her eyes and striding ahead towards the door.
I bite back a laugh and take my time following her out the door, enjoying the view of how her ass looks in the forest green leggings she’s wearing.
I jog ahead and open the gate to the park next door. She mutters a thank you under her breath as she leads Bruno through. We walk in silence for a few minutes, our breaths mingling together in the frosty air.
“So,” I start, breaking the silence. “Were you able to get any writing done today?”
She mentioned the other night that she was planning on writing after she had coffee with Hazel and Charlie.
She lets out a frustrated groan. “Not as much as I would have liked. I’m just,” she flails her free hand around in the air, “Stuck.”
“Stuck how?”
Amelia lets out a sigh and dodges a giant puddle, brushing against my arm as she does. My hand drops to the small of her back as I guide her in front of me and I hear her suck in a breath.I drop my hand once she’s back beside me, my hand instantly missing the contact.
“Stuck as in nothing’s flowing, everything feels…forced.”
“Maybe because you are forcing it?”
“I know! But my characters aren’t talking to me, and the deadline is getting closer by the day and I have nothing to show for it,” she says, plopping down on a bench that’s across from a lighted stretch of grass. I sit next to her while she unclips Bruno’s leash and extracts a ball from her pocket. She tosses it and we watch as Bruno tears after it.
“What’s it about?” I ask, bumping my leg into hers. “Maybe talking about it will get the juices flowing?”
Bruno trots back, dropping his ball at our feet and backing up, waiting for the next throw. I bend over and pick it up, tossing it back out again.
Amelia sighs and tugs at her cream beanie. “I guess it couldn’t hurt. So I have a baseball romance series and in this book the main female character is a single mom and her kid plays baseball. The main male character is obviously an MLB player. I’m just having trouble coming up with a realistic-ish way they could cross paths and meet. Like they’re not from the same world. How am I going to make them cross paths?”
“How about a meet and greet after one of the games?” I suggest, thinking about how Kessler and Lucy met.
She tosses the ball for Bruno again when he returns it and tips her head to the side, scrunching her nose. “I mean, the scenario crossed my mind, but,” she shakes her head, “Honestly, what are the odds of an MLB player noticing someone at a meet and greet and pursuing things from there?”
